Hunted
by Deaths.RoseXo
Summary: Running from a monster race who like to hunt for sport. Can you survive? Let's see Who gets out alive. Told from alternating view points. 10/Martha/O.C. REVIEW! :
1. This Patch of Woods

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I do not own Doctor Who. This is a nonprofit fan fiction. All non-Doctor Who character are mine, along with the plot.

Author's Note: So, I decided to play around with some P.O.V. (O.C., Martha, and narrator; maybe the Doctor in later chapters?)! This is super exciting! XD For me anyway, 'cause I'm just a nerd like that. :3  
_PLEASE REVIEW! All suggestions & constructive comments welcome!_

**Chapter 1: This Patch of Woods**

_Run! Run! Run!_ I chant in my head, crashing through the trees. My eyes sting, but I'm not sure if it's from sweat or blood. Adrenaline courses through my veins, making it easier to run with aching muscles.

They told me to run, run for my life. Normally, I don't like following orders, but in this case it's not an option. Not if I want to live, anyway. I stumble along frantically, moving as quickly as I can. They are so fast that I don't even worry about being quiet. The most important thing to do is get far away and as quickly as I can.

Trees and shrubs encompass me on all sides. I dodge most trees, slam into others. The shrubs catch my ankle, clawing open new wounds. Leaping over a fallen log, I land wrong and crash to the ground in a heap. Not even taking a moment to process what just happened, I'm on my feet again, running even more desperately to compensate for lost time. Every precious second counts.

* * *

"What happened?" I ask the Doctor, taking in the look on his face.

"Something pulled us of course." He frowns at the monitor.

"But how could that happen?" I follow him around the TARDIS console as he adjusts some of the strange gadgets, trying to locate the problem.

"I don't know," he admits. He looks up at me suddenly, an impossibly-large smile on his face. "Let's find out, shall we?"

We both run for the TARDIS doors, throwing them open excitedly

A forest. We're in the middle of a forest.

"Martha, welcome to Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming."

I look aroud the place, unsure of how a bunch of trees could have pulled us off course. It wouldn't be too surprising if this was just one of his crazy plans. Either way, I decide to play along.

Suddenly, I can hear something approaching us, fast. Out of the woods in front of us, a young girl comes slamming through the trees. Blood trickles down her face, mixing with a thick coat of sweat. Her hair is a mess, leaves and twigs sticking out at odd angles.

When she sees us, she stops dead in her tracks. The abrupt halt causes her to slip on the bed of pine needles beneath her. Feet swept from under her, she lands on her back with a painful thud.  
"NOOO!" She screams, scrambling back up in less than a second and takes off to the right.

Before I can make sense of what just happened, the Doctor takes off into the woods. Of course being him, he runs towards whatever it was that the girl was running _away_ from. And, of course being me, I follow him unquestioningly.

* * *

The Doctor and Martha darted through the woods, trying to find the source of the young girl's terror.

The Doctor ran, scanning the woods with his sonic screwdriver. He didn't need the device to know that something wasn't right. He could smell that something was out of place; beyond the scent of pine and the sap of oaks.

Martha crashed through the brush, doing her best to keep up with the Time Lord. Heros ready to rescue, but sometimes the heros are the ones that need to be saved. Young Martha was about to find this out.


	2. On the Run

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I do not own Doctor Who. This is a nonprofit fan fiction. All non-Doctor Who characters are mine.

**Chapter 2: On the Run**

The Doctor is running and running. My lungs feel as though they're about to burst, but I don't stop or plan on complaining. I always do my best to get the Doctor's approval, though most of the time it's like he sees right through me. Shoving the thought aside, I push myself to keep up. Nine hundred years old, and he's still kicking my butt at running.

He suddenly drops to the ground, behind a bush. I collapse next to him, trying to hide how out of breath I am. Waving the sonic screwdriver in front of him, a smile spreads across his face, a special glint coming to his dark eyes. I've seen that look enough to know that he's found something, but doesn't quite know what it is.

"What is it?" I ask, wondering what the sonic could have possibly picked up on.

There's nothing in front of us except a semi-large clearing. It looks beautiful the way that the sun slants through it, illuminating the area with its bright warmth. Lush, green grass sways in the spring breeze. Even though I don't know for sure that it's spring, I can just _feel_ it somehow.

"A ship." I can hear the smile in his voice.

* * *

Martha kneeled on the soft dirt beside the Doctor, watching him puzzle through this information. There are plenty of species that could cloak their ships, just like the Family had. But something made this race, which ever one it happened to be, stand out against all the others. The girl, bloody and terrified, was obviously running for her life. While it could very likely have been from a bear or a wolf, the Doctor just knew that wasn't the case.

What didn't make sense was why they hadn't just killed her yet. If that was their plan, they could have easily have just wiped her out. But why hadn't they? And why would they want her dead?

Always trying to see the best in every situation, the Doctor tried to figure some reason other than trying to kill the teenaged girl. This proved difficult when the image of her bloody and battered form stumbling from the trees kept playing over in his mind.

* * *

As the sun begins to sink below the tree line, I find myself unable to run another step. While my whole body aches to just drop to the ground, I force my legs to keep moving. I continue through the woods with a slow, labored walk. Searching the unfamiliar surroundings for a place to sleep, I find myself wondering how I even got into this disaster.

This was supposed to be a "family trip" for spring break. My parents are always trying to get Tony (my twin), Andy (my younger brother), and I to get along and quit arguing so much. This, exploring the great outdoors, was their solution to the problem. The most it had accomplished was forcing my brothers and I to make a pact not to fight the whole trip; it was a very strained agreement.

If only it weren't for gathering firewood, I would never have found myself here. The worst part is that my family probably thinks that I had some brilliant idea to run away or have a friend come rescue me somehow. I wish that were the case.

_Stop it, Amber._ I demand myself; this is no time for a pity party.

Somehow, someway, I have to get through this. I have to survive. Because, admittedly, I miss my mom and dad, and even my moron brothers.

Behind me, a twig snaps. Unable to see in the darkness and unwilling to stay around long enough to try to figure out what caused the noise, I take off. Fear is an amazing thing, I realize. It's the only thing that gives me the energy to keep running. Vaguely, I'm aware of a strange sort of pull in my chest that seems to be guiding me somewhere.

The forest is beginning to get dark, which means that I eventually have to stop running and find a place to stay for the night. This will be my fourth day on the run, my fourth night trying to find a safe enough place to settle in for the night.

My breathing is labored, and my body begs me to stop running, but I can't. Not yet. Just a little further, and I'll slow down again. Turning around a tree, I slam straight into someone. The force of the collision knocks me back, causing me to land on my bum, hard.

Ignoring the pain in my tail bone, I spring to my feet, ready to fight whatever it is that managed to find me. I will not let them win, or at least I'll do my best not to.

Squinting through the darkness to see my attacker, I can make out a vaguely familiar shape.

"Amber?" He asks tentatively. My heart soars with relief. It's Tony. Stupid, annoying, wonderful Tony.

"Oh!" I throw my arms around him in a tight hug—well, as tightly as I can manage in my weakened state.

"I'm so glad I found you!" We same simultaneously. Usually I hate that freaky twin thing when we say the same thing or can sense each other, but this time I'm grateful.

"We can go home now!" I cheer.

"Where's Mom and Dad?" Tony asks. My stomach suddenly drops with these words.

"I thought you where with them."

We stare at each other for a moment before grabbing each other's hands and taking off together.


End file.
